Another Wave
by Renix05
Summary: A collection of shorts I've put together surrounding my frequently used characters in the ME3 Multiplayer, it's a bit of fun and it just allows me to flesh out my characters a bit more, and gives me someway to have them all fight together. It follows my playthrough of ME3, but there is no focus on Shepard, it's all about the mulitplayer aspect.


**Another Wave.**

Soldier - Justicar - Havoc

**_Connor_**

He was a Turian, part of a legacy of triumph and war, with firepower and strength, leadership and soldiers that could wipe out anything in the galaxy. Turians were a proud race, a powerful and military hierarchy that never looked down on someone because of social status. If you were the highest general with a birth right of a poor man, it never mattered. You instilled enough fear, enough loyalty, to command thousands of men, to create decisions no one could do in the matter of a few seconds, you chose who lived and who died, no one could take that from you.

Connor had grown, from a young child living on the Citadel, moving to Palaven when he was 15, to begin his military career in school where education and physical training exerted him day after day, to the point that he revelled in the pains and the bruises that he bore. It made him learn, taught him his weaknesses, exploited all his faults and allowed him to grow into a better man. A stronger man.

When he left he trained further, taking on mercenary jobs for a year, protecting illegal cargo, red sand, weaponry. He made a small fortune picking off scraps that were forgotten in raids and protecting groups of civilians from those he worked with. A year and then he moved onto C-Sec, cleaning his records from anything that could out him at risk of being exposed. Shootouts in the lower wards kept him in shape. His work at C-Sec, it was just another job, another pass time, but he aspired for something more, bigger than C-Sec, bigger than the Turian military. He wanted to be a Spectre.

But, that was then, a month ago, and this, this is now. The galaxy is at war, war with sentient synthetic life forms that call themselves Reapers. As destruction they have carved through the galaxy time and time again begins once more in Connor's lifetime, there is no chance that he could ever become a Spectre, unless he was to somehow find a way to gain the Council's attention, while they scurry and roll over duties of protection for their home systems. If Connor was to approach the Turian worlds he would be met with only death. Palaven has fallen – no matter how they put it otherwise, as handfuls of men struggle to survive in the underground world that feeds through it – and the death of the Reapers would only bring it back. Everyone has fled to the moons, regrouping to fight back and regain the planet only to be thwarted by hoards of husks and harvesters dropping in soldiers in never-ending swarms.

They've even turned their own people against them, just like the Collectors did to the Protheans 50,000 years ago. Marauders, as they call them, Turian people turned into soldiers, forced to fight and kill their own.

The fighting was said to be brutal, 25,000 men lost in a single attack at one point, replicated over and over again when the Reapers would push back heavily.

The Turian military had almost given up, losing more men than they could count at every attack, communication failure and a lack of resources torn them down. Winter loomed up on them, the sun would fail to rise and the world would turn dark and cold. They knew that those weakened in battle wouldn't survive and those who were still fit to fight would have to work against the frost, day after day.

People were giving up.

That was when the Krogan arrived. A huge, hulking ship, made of scrap parts and old machinery, worse than what you'd expect from a Quarian ship, flew down on Menae landing hundreds of Krogan into the battles. They wiped out the Reapers forces in pure brutality and left no quarter, the Turians could breathe for a while, allow rest as the Krogan assisted with little complaint.

They fell under Turian control, clan leaders delegating with the generals still alive. And a hope glistened in the nights.

Commander Shepard would have to be thanked for that.

He was working his way through the galaxy, picking up resources and creating alliances, all in an attempt to somehow untie the galaxy to fight against the Reapers. It was a strenuous and daunting task ahead of him, but sources say that he had managed to cure the Genophage and so the Krogan, led by an Urdnot Wrex, and old friend of Shepard, had agreed to send troops to Palaven. Hopefully, by the news feeds, they won't be too late to save Palaven.

A part of Connor wanted to be there, fighting on one of Palaven's moons, protecting his men and fighting alongside the Krogan. He admired their sheer tenancy to be able to crush everything with their heads, a feat to their thick hides, or lack of a brain he couldn't say. He knew, however, that although of lieutenant rank, he wouldn't live for long. Either that, or he'll lose too many men under his command that he'll go insane.

He wasn't battle worn like you'd expect, living in merc groups wasn't like living on the front lines –death toll was never the same, and you never had to trust the men you worked with.

After news of the Krogan assistance, Connor decided he'd return to Palaven, he'd just come out of a meeting with the Council over his acceptance to join the Spectres, somehow obtained by sheer luck, and was on his way to return when the Citadel received news of the refugees coming in. Over 50 ships out of 300 that had initially left Palaven made it to the Citadel, far too many civilians that were to be expected had both arrived, and died.

Connor forgot about the Spectres, that the council would state him a chance to become one of them once they were sure that the war was turning in their favour, and spent that month in the refugee centres, helping those who were in need, mostly children that had been split from their parents.

Then, then came the humans, and the Batarians, the Salarians, and the Asari soon after. Although the Reapers had hit the first two first, it had taken them far longer to get to the Citadel, the Reapers had staged wars in nearly all the council systems and beyond. Travelling to the Citadel, just a few drops away, was now near impossible for a demilitarised ship carrying refugees.

Connor thought he was going to work the camps for the rest of the war. Moving beds and packages, housing units and people, through throngs of streets and docking plants just to find them somewhere to go. Not that he minded, he knew that par the C-Sec workers, who wwere only there to keep the peace, he was the only one able minded enough to run the operations in the camps. Assigning areas to people and getting refugees through customs and into the camps, he was the only one who was able to somehow get a small medical centre built up, begging for nurses and anyone with a medical history to assist.

He didn't mind it in the end, but when he grant himself a few hours of rest on most nights, he'd look over his armour, his heavy pistol and the bag of thermal clips all left to gather dust. Looking at them, he wished he was fighting instead of all this.

In the end, it was buy pure luck that he heard about what the Alliance had planned.

* * *

_**Mikalai**_

Mikalai, an Asari Justicar that had decided to work the Citadel docks and refugee camps, was a strange character to work with. She provided a sanctuary for the orphaned children at the back of one of the large camps, a small hovel where they lived, ate and slept. She'd spend hours with them, only leaving when Connor would come by to see how they were, she'd then follow him for the next few hours helping him work before returning to the children.

Connor was unsure of her, her cold eyes larger than normal settled an unease on his shoulders, she seemed to scrutinise every action he did and watched him as he moved around. He could understand, a sheer curiosity of how his body worked compared to her own, bone structure and the like. But a part of him wondered if she was watching him because of who he was, an ex-merc, a turian that hadn't relinquished his Phlanax pistol the moment he stepped on the Citadel and kept a case containing an Avenger and enough thermal clips to supply both weapons for at least a full day. Possibly she saw him as a threat and had taken it upon herself to watch him.

It begged the question whether or not she saw the Batarians, who'd been driven to the edge of extinction due to the Reapers and the actions of Commander Shepard months before, as a threat. They could easily attack the C-Sec guards posted around – too tired in their watch to pay full attention like Connor did- and stage some form of attack against the Alliance Councillor in revenge to what Commander Shepard caused.

She didn't seem to mind them though.

It was nearing the end of the day, Connor was about to finish up working in the small medical wards that had been set up in Docking Bay E12, when she turned up. Walking with that strong gait and swaying hips, seductive if you fashioned yourself dying by her biotics. She had walked up to Connor, ignorant of the people around them, the strange looks she received, and told him that the Alliance were looking for soldiers, able soldiers that would be willing to work with them to protect sensitive places in the galaxy. To retrieve information from those they were going to lose and to save people they had lost.

It was a tempting idea, a unofficial secret unit that would work behind enemy lines and deal with what needed to be done, it wasn't just Reapers they'd be fighting, but Cerberus, Reaper controlled Geth, and rumour spoke of Collectors joining the fray – the scavengers after Commander Shepard destroyed their base.

Connor didn't think twice, he signed up that evening and agreed to take the first mission out to Benning.

Cerberus, retrieve information and to eliminate high value targets, allowing Alliance soldiers to evacuate the civilians. Supposedly, from what Connor heard from one of the Alliance soldiers with them, that Commander Shepard was also working on Benning, doing the same thing they were.

Had Connor been working with fellow Turians, he would've gone to the mission destination without a doubt, but sat in an Alliance ship with a Vorcha, a Krogan and a Human – Connor assumed the human was watching them and to provide assistance should they come across any civilians. He was becoming more and more hesitant by the second. Could they really work as a team? Would each others training get in the way? Could the Vorcha actually fight?

It took him a while to grow accustomed to them all. Running around on a planet whose rains kicked out your shields faster than you could give a Quarian the flu without their enviro suit on, having to deal with a 20 tonne mass of Krogan on your heels with a shotgun and a Vorcha intent on burning everything to death. Thankfully, the human decided to stay back, providing cover fire with a sniper rifle he obviously had never used before, although failing to understand the concept of being able to headshot a lot of the enemies.

The Alliance tech shouted out words of praise and orders through their headsets but not once did Connor hear anyone around him speak – the cries of Cerberus agents didn't count. Sure the Krogan laughed whenever he was able to bash a few heads together but there were no words exchanged between them. Just silence and an unmarked want to gain the most kill points between them.

Connor saw it fit to gain an understanding of how Cerberus fought and in the end decided he had a loathing admiration for the Guardians, and their shields. Unable to penetrate them unless the Krogan had knocked them back in a humour filled blood rage, or when Connor bypassed them all together and ran around the side of them to attack.

It was an interesting learning curve, never having fought Cerberus units before he was surprised at the sheer persistency of the Dragoons, throwing their yellow whips around like no one's business, and the way they lept before they attacked. Connor couldn't understand how they did it.

But worse of all, what Connor never expected to come across while retrieving data files from one of the housing units near the back of the area, was to expect a female Cerberus unit to be that annoying. Phantoms, as the Alliance soldier called them, and they ripped through everyone's shields with their pistols before they realised it, Connor managed to get into cover, and as the Krogan took it upon himself to melee the female to death he was able to revive the Vorcha that had taken the brunt of the silent attack.

The Phantom was quickly dead in the Krogans grasp and the team was able to concentrate on the number of Guardians and Centurions coming their way.

At the end of it all, as the shuttle arrived to pick them up Connor was impressed by the Cerberus units. They showed some form of plan of attack as they appeared in their waves and did not stop until they were dead.

Fighting with the three of them, nursing wounds from the Phantoms attack and the Atlas that saw fit to shoot off a rocket in such a small confined area near the end, was… interesting. Connor had a feeling that the Krogan and the Vorcha were of Blood Pack, supposedly agreeing to join the war only after Commander Shepard had managed to get them working under Aria's control, everyone knew who Aria was. They were clearly itching for a harder fight, perhaps Cerberus, although humans, weren't squishy enough for them, must be an odd enemy to fight from having to deal with the Reapers. Connor didn't want to ask if they were going to fight again when they got back to the Alliance ship, Connor didn't even want to talk to them in the first place.

The Alliance soldier, upon arriving at the ship, gave them his thanks and said that they were now allowed to take on any mission they so desired all they had to do was report to the allocation officers and take the next shuttle out.

Connor took a few hours to recollect himself, Cerberus hadn't unnerved him, he'd trained for unknown scenarios like that back on Palaven, but he just wanted to make sure he was ready to fight again.

His armour had sustained damage, not enough to cause him to stir but enough that it prompted him to acquire some form of equipment pack with the credits he had. The requisition officer had laughed with unease at his arrival, probably just been placed to the position in serving alongside a huge myriad of races now working, unofficially, for the alliance. He had offered an apology explaining that due to lacking in resources the Alliance had to up the prices of everything and because there wasn't enough manpower, they had no idea what was inside of the equipment packages until they had been opened by the buyer. Connor shrugged and accepted it, telling the man that he wasn't offended or bothered. A moment of surprise in between missions seemed a little exciting, although the feelings obviously childish and one Connor would never have openly admitted.

He bought a standard recruit pack with the money he obtained from his first mission, happy for the upgrade to his Avenger and a shield pack to add to his equipment he made his way to ascertain the situations of other on-going missions. He spotted the Alliance soldier, talking with some of his fellow men but he paid him no attention continuing on past a group of Salarians, intent on talking out the uncanny silence that surrounded the ships overly large cargo bay.

He found that most were coming back from their missions but there was one that was being handled by a single Asari unit. The rest of her team mates had pulled out when they realised it was Collectors that was attacking the science facility on Sanctum. The Asari was pinned down in the small area, fighting around sharp corners and receiving tight situations when a suspected anomaly in the form of a large Seeker Swarm, that had somehow been release prior to the teams initial arrival, was destroying the Asari's shields and pinning her down.

She had just taken out a Scion when Connor arrived, her Reave ability ripping through it and forcing it to tumble to the ground dead. Connor immediately went into action, jumping from the shuttle before it landed and headed over to assist. Upon her turning to him, a biotic sphere surrounding her on the top of the balcony to the science lab, Connor moved behind the door frame, quickly glancing over to the other side by the upper basement entrance before firing a few rounds into an oncoming Collector trooper.

It was then he heard the voice of the Asari, sending a sweat down him all too familiar.

Mikalai finished off the trooper with her Valkyrie, throwing a pull on another coming around the corner. Connor was astounded, he hadn't expected the Justicar to actually put herself into this fight, he didn't know the code himself but he was sure that Justicars weren't supposed to go running into unofficial battle fields and fight. They had a moral code to uphold, to protect innocents or the like, and there were no innocents here anymore.

She simply said she'll explain her being there once the mission was complete and urged them to move into the science facility as a Scion came through the doorway on the opposite end.

Connor watched her with keen interest, never having seen an Asari Justicar fight, she pummelled the Collector forces with her Reave ability and threw the Abominations into the air before they had chance to near them. Connor kept the pressure on anything that came into his sights, concussion shot after concussion shot to knock down the enemy and switching to his Marksman ability whenever Mikalai needed to recharge her biotics.

A few close calls, where Connor found them stuck between a Praetorian and a very large, and blue, Seeker Swarm, but in the end they came out alive. A few hours after arriving on the planet the two of them called the shuttle in for an evac, protecting the area for that little while longer, clearing out the enemies until they were saved by the Alliance.

Crawling into the shuttle made Connor realise how out of practice he actually was, his legs and arms ache in the simplest of movement and he groaned internally when his armour dug into him. A Praetorian had decided to charge into him it's claw ripped through his back and had knocked out his shields, there was a few moments of struggle as he backed himself down the staircase to the bottom only to walk into a group of Scions and Collector Troopers. Mikalai saw it fit to use a rocket on the group and Connor remembers being blinded and deafened by the blast.

He watched as the Asari climbed in after him and they both shared a glance in silence.

Connor looked as her normal plain silver armour was now coated in the black green fluid that throbs through the Collectors, her biotics were worn down but she still had enough to go another round against them, she could so easily turn the shuttle back around and demand another wave against them.

Thankfully she didn't, taking into account that now Connor had sat down he wasn't going to move until they got back to the ship.

Even as he threw his Avenger to the ground, and double checked his Phalanx pistol was still by his side, he sighed in relief loudly glad it was over. His noise gained a small smile from the Justicar and both silently agreed that Collectors were probably the most dangerous enemies they had ever faced.

* * *

**_Tok'ra_**

Connor and Mikalai had decided to work together from then on, sharing credits and equipment with each other when needed. They grew to understand each other, working together against waves and waves of Cerberus and Collector enemies that came upon them. It was hard, to learn how Mikalai moved, how she fought, but with assistance from her words, bellowing out shouts of warning and commands, they got through the battles. They improved tremendously together and worked harder than they ever had.

Connor never left the ship, sleeping in the cramped beds of the second deck with the other Turians and Salarians, in separate quarters to Mikalai who preferred to sleep amongst her own kind. It was quiet on those nights, although of the same race he never talked to the other Turians, and they never tried to with him. A few nods would be passed to those he recognised but that was it.

It was quiet, but never lonely.

Weeks passed, and news of Commander Shepard died for a while, seemingly busying herself with working on building up resources rather than armies. It all relates to the rumours of this weapon that the Alliance was building, a weapon with catastrophic results against the Reapers should it be fired.

Rumours said that it was Prothean, a device they tried to build to protect them from the Reapers but it was destroyed when the Reapers found out about it. Other rumours spoke of it having a missing part and being a weapon whose blue prints had been brought through the generations of races that had lived and died by the Reapers.

Those rumours moved quickly through the quiet hull of the ship, and none more so louder than those of a Turian Havoc by the name of Tok'ra.

* * *

Born from a Turian colony outside of the main system, Tok'ra was used to the movement of the opposing races around them, he loved meeting them, discussing matters current or otherwise and learning of their cultures and mannerisms. He found it no more so exciting while part of a battle, as the waves of Geth sweeped down upon them, watching as his teammates would take a few moments to figure out how to work as part of the team. He had always preferred a more hands on approach, Saber assault rifle in hand while he pushed his jet packs to the max, striking down on anything he could target.

Stim packs kept him on his feet, bouncing his shields back to full and allowing him to quickly dart and dodge any enemies he came across. Heavy bullets encased from the Saber allowed easy headshots for weaker enemies from long distances, if the need should arise.

Tok'ra was a simple soldier, brought along for the ride by a fellow Turian, who he has yet to see for the past 2 weeks, and made to stay to help in the war effort. Tok'ra was happy to remain, the numbers of different species around him, living on the ship, gave him prime time to interact and socialise with them as best as he could, and working here allowed him to be away from the front lines back of Palaven, lines he otherwise would have died on.

Some called him foolish, or childish, his lack of a serious demeanour, his almost ignorance of the impending death and destruction that was occurring in every part of the galaxy, people would think he didn't care, didn't understand. But he did, he had watched as his home burn on Taetrus, his parents turned into those reaper husks and forced to flee with the evacuating ships watching as the Reapers descended from the sky.

He understands how everyone is feeling, and so, has decided to continue on as if everything was fine, as if they were going to win this war. He had moved to Citadel, only to leave when he had found out about this military division the Alliance had set up.

Soldiers from any race would gather together and fight against the waves of Reaper forces on planets that needed them most. It was never to be front line warfare, and it never became that, thankfully, Tok'ra was thrown into fights against hundreds of Geth and Cerberus units, but the main objective was to retrieve information, or to kill enemy ranked units, to help evacuation or to rescue people that had been lost.

He wouldn't say he enjoyed his work, it was life threatening time and time again, and he'd never felt so worn after completing the missions, but it felt right. He felt for the first time, that he was doing a good thing, the ideas of being in C-Sec or working for the turian Military like his mother and father was nothing compared to the honour and gratitude he gained from working here. He wouldn't say he enjoyed it, but it was better than he expected.

And he enjoyed the company, knowing he wasn't alone.

He met Connor through lesser means than he'd have expected. At first he heard about an Asari Justicar, a young highly trained killer who otherwise would've dedicated her life into protecting her own homeworld of Thessia, but somehow had found her way to the ship. She in turn was working with a Turian soldier, and supposedly the two worked missions together regularly. Of course, they would sometimes go alone, agreeing to separate should they find themselves better suited to a mission elsewhere but they were still known to be together. A team.

Tok'ra had suspected he'd seem them around, it was hard to miss an Asari that carried herself so… strongly as a Justicar would, but amidst everything, and the chaos that would occur every time people would return form a mission he wasn't sure.

Still, he had heard of them in passing, and it put a smile to him knowing that even as war raged on people could still find time to make friends.

How he finally came to meet them was wasn't how he'd have expected.

As he knew would happen, and as what the Alliance should have prepared for. Tensions rising and adrenaline cursing through the blood of everyone around him, history would rise and take a bite out of them, and as excepted, the Krogan and Turians were the main problem.

A Krogan, a Shaman that had managed to form together a small clan, had begun it all. Details were hazy and continuously changing as to why it had occurred but upon entering the mess hall Tok'ra walked straight into a standoff. The Krogan sharman had a Turian by the neck, holding him to one of the tables, the sheer weight of both species was causing it to hollow and crack under them but no one paid it any mind. Surrounding them, the Shamans followers, shotguns at the ready point them at any of the Turians who had moved to help the one trapped on the table. And, as Tok'ra would later learn his name, a turian, by the human name of Connor, was stood in the centre of it all, Krogan addled shotguns pointed at the turian's armour close enough to kill on impact three times over, but Connor ignored them, body tense, arm raised as he held a single Phalanx pistol to the Shamans head. Staring the Krogan down as it hovered over the other turians body.

Tok'ra stepped in quieter once seeing the commotion, hearing Alliance soldiers coming down from behind him and ordering everyone to 'lower their weapons'. As if their meek demands could control a bunch of lawless and uncontrolled soldiers who looked like they were itching for a fight.

Tok'ra watched as Connor regarded the Alliance soldier brave enough to near them, Vindicator rifle added to list of weaponry pointing at him but he again ignored it, stilling his form under his armour and looking back towards the Shaman.

"Let him go."

A single demand, and that was all he needed to say, if the Shaman would follow his words then nothing would escalate, if he didn't Connor would shoot him.

The krogan eyes flitted to and fro, to the turian in his grasp, gasping for air, claws trying to pry his firm grip off, to Connor, and to the lines of Alliance soldiers surrounding them. It have a huff, a grunt and moved away, it watched as it captive collapsed on the metal table, rolling to its side to cough in broken fits, trying to breathe once more.

Connor waited for the krogan to step towards its followers, gun still raised until it had neared the group and motioned for them to leave. As they turned away the turian soldier lowered his weapon and walked away, allowing the other turian to be help up by his friends.

Tok'ra watched as the Krogan left, going deep into the lower cargo bays of the ship, while Connor returned to his meal, seated across from an asari.

People resumed their duties and tasks, the Alliance soldiers demanding that they did so with haste.

Tok'ra made his way to the kitchen, picking up the divided rations, that was given to him by a less than enthusiastic Alliance soldier, and made his way to one of the tables.

As he sat down he eyed Connor at the other end of the table, the asari noticed him watching and gave a knowing look, she spoke to her turian friend mentioning of offering up the rest of her food to one of the young asari near the other end of the hall before telling him that Tok'ra was staring.

Connor glanced up at him. Steel eyes that were in all turian males questioned his sudden presence on the otherwise empty table before returning to his food, shaking his head at the question and reminding her that it is good for her to eat, even with the future knowledge that food shortages will soon mean to even lesser amounts of food for them all.

The asari looked to Tok'ra again, eyes offering him to move up closer to her side, for a Justicar she seemed oddly friendly.

Tok'ra shifted across, sliding his tray and moving closer to the group, he watched as Connor stilled at his approach but otherwise continued, giving a pointed stare to the asari.

They ate in silence, much to the uncomfort it gave to Tok'ra who would otherwise have been chatting away with whoever he sat with.

The asari shifted, and coughed lightly, almost as if he was telling him to speak, knowing that her companion wasn't going to.

"What happened back then? With the Krogan I mean."

Connor didn't answer, mandibles twitched.

"It looked pretty bad, I mean that Krogan was definitely a shaman and for a shaman to throw a Turian like that-"

"It was another disagreement." Connor answered. "The krogan instigated it. Seemingly the turian had failed to revive him in a mission they had completed together earlier on today. The turian then reminded him, with little discretion, that the Krogan managed to walk into the pathway of two turrets and had failed to understand the danger they posed to ones shields, and they couldn't revive him until the problem of the turrets was dealt with. I assume it took too long and the Krogan was incapacitated until the wave had died down momentarily."

"Ah. Makes sense, still, did the shaman have to go after him now about it? Why not on the battlefield?"

"Probably because the turian would've been defended by the other teammates, and without his followers to assist he would've lost. Seems he forgot that it is common for our kind to support one another regardless if we know each other's names."

The turians voice rumbled from deep within him, a sound so unlike that of a Salarian or a Human. Tok'ra nodded his head, agreement and understanding, he could tell immediately that the turian across from him was older, more battle worn, the way he had held his weapon, himself, even against a fully grown Krogan.

"How did you do that? Stand up to the Krogan like that."

"It is not a question of how."

Tok'ra expected him to continue, but when he didn't it got him to think. It wasn't a question of how, it was of why, and both were easily answered. How, because the turian, Connor, knew that such a simple feud was useless to truly fight over, to allow it to go on would've have only hindered those involved and drawn attention away from the true threat looming over everything they knew. Why, because as Tok'ra had looked around the group surrounding the Shaman, Connor, and the turian, no one was in the right state, no one was in the right mind to willingly stand up and face a Krogan so closely. Shields and armour would have done nothing should that Shaman had thrown its weight at him, but it didn't matter to the turian, to Connor.

Tok'ra looked back down to his meal, meagre and plain but would provide him with enough energy for another mission.

"There's reports coming in that the Alliance has found some information on the Reaper indoctrination on Ontarom, they want group going there in the next hour…" Tok'ra looked to the asari. "would you two come with me?"

The asari smiled, as best as a deadly trained killer could, accepting the call.

The turian across from him shifted, a tired droop to his head and shoulders.

"We will."

Tok'ra couldn't have been happier.

* * *

All rights go to Bioware, they made the Mass Effect universe and I'm so pleased and honoured they shared it with us. I don't own scratch except the characters in this.

I've decided to do this for the characters I frequently use on the ME3 Multi, I'll jab at things I've noticed while playing with my fellow XBOX players and the like but it's all in good fun.

Thanks for reading.


End file.
